All I've Ever Learned From Love
by Aristotelian
Summary: (rename from Hatching) What would happen if Godchild took place in the 21st century? And, of course, if Riff and Cain were together...?
1. Chapter 1

I met someone today.

"Darling, I wish you wouldn't smoke." Her eyes were fixed on the divisions of her mahogany hair. Sometimes, he wondered whether that was her real hair color, because it seemed so unnatural. But, even though he wondered, it never occurred to him to ask. The world of women would likely forever be an enigma to him.

"I don't." He leaned over the sink and splashed cold water onto his face. His eyes followed her fingers, skillfully using her comb to section her hair off into long lines before wrapping them in metal cylinders.

"Yes, you did. And you did today. I can smell it." He gargled a mouthful of alcohol. "And you promised me you wouldn't. So, I think that means you owe me." She held out her hand expectantly. He filled it with a half-empty box of cigarettes momentarily.

"I didn't mean to. I really wish you wouldn't throw them away, Lucy." But, they were already in with the rubbish before he finished his plea. "They're so expensive." She showed no recognition of him speaking at all, but continued to curl her hair. He placed his hands on her hips, dodging her hands when they reached close to his face to place another strand of hair into a curler.

"I really wish you wouldn't smoke, but I guess you never think about what I want. So then, why should I think about what you want?" He closed his eyes.

"Darling, don't do this to me, please. I had such an awful day at work. Let's not argue tonight."

"What happened at work?" Her voice lightened from iron to copper. He nodded, his eyes closed even tighter.

"This boy…. Just, this boy."

"How old was he?"

"I don't know. He couldn't have been much older than fifteen. He came in unconscious and half-dead already. Severely abused, black, and blue, and every color a contusion can be, lacerated up and down his back, like he'd been flogged." He kissed her neck. "How can someone you've never even met get so under your skin? I didn't even find out his name, but when he opened his eyes, and looked at me as if his world was ending, and I was the last hope, I swear, darling, it was like a fledgling, imprinting on me, clasping to my hand. I couldn't let go of him, not when he was like that."

He finally opened his eyes, and caught her looking at him in the mirror, only for a second. "I'm almost done," she said. "Do you know if he made it?" He nodded.

"Is it strange?" Her lips silenced his worry.

But, he knew everything was different.


	2. Chapter 2

_What are you doing here? You're actually insane! _ His mind raced through thoughts, moving more rapidly as the elevator ascended. _What if he's not actually on level six? What if the nurse got his name wrong? Cain… are people even still named Cain?_

"Excuse me, sir." He had stepped out of the elevator on floor six minutes ago, and had stood there without realizing it for quite some time. Finally, his eyes focused on the woman in front of him. "Are you visiting someone today?" He hesitated, not knowing what to say or do or how he could even express what was happening inside of his body.

"Uh," he finally began, and stopped. His eyes scanned the hospital lobby, looking for a sign that the boy he left behind a few days ago still existed. "Cain. He's a young kid, who just came in a few days ago." The nurse nodded and motioned to him to follow her.

_Okay, he's still here. He's still alive. All you have to do is go in, and say you're glad to see he's doing better. Then, you can turn around and leave._

"He's in here. He hasn't had any visitors yet, so we're not sure how he's going to react to someone from the outside about all of this. He's been really resistant to treatment without his mother approving first. The doctor said he's not ready to know about his mother's passing yet. It'd break him when he needs recovery."

He gulped. _Great. No pressure. Just don't bring up anything about his mother_. He supposed it was too late to run, when he had already walked into the room and saw the boy who really was alone in the world, except for a stranger.

"You have a visitor, darling," the nurse said with a light smile, before she left the room and closed the door behind her. He sits up with great pain in his face to lift his body. His green cat eyes peer up.

"Who is it?" he asks. With that first frail question, his body prepares to jolt. _I have no business intruding here, on this boy's life, just because I needed reassurance. There's nothing I can do for him. He's hurt, he's lost his mother, and all I can do is stand here and watch him fall apart. Why am I here? What do I think I am accomplishing?_ His eyes scanned his bandaged chest, plastered cheek, parched lips, and eyes unnaturally awake and aware. "Come over, please." It was command, not a question. He had no choice but to obey. "You know, you never told me your name, though I suspect you already know mine. Otherwise, how could you know how to get to me?"

"I have my sources. I'm Riff. It's nice to meet you, Cain. Pardon me for not introducing myself last time."

"I understand. I guess it was quite a confusing time for both of us, me being rushed through the halls in a stretcher, and you running to keep up. But, Riff, that's a weird name. It can't be your actual one."

"No it is. Well, technically my real name is Riffael, but I always go by Riff because people think Riffael is very strange."

"Well it is. But, I was just assuming you'd adopted Riff from the _Rocky Horror Picture Show_." He let out a tiny smile, and Riff finally expelled the tension which had consumed him until that point. "I'm Cain Hargreaves, and before you ask, yes, like Alexis Hargreaves. I'm his son." Riff's eyebrows shot up involuntarily, and his body tensed again for the exit. Cain's eyes dropped to the bed sheets. "He did this to me and my mum."

"I'm really sorry that this happened, Cain. I hope you can leave the hospital very soon." He hoped that Cain wouldn't get caught up on his stumbling words.

"I'm feeling better. I wish I could go, only they won't let me talk to my mum. I guess I'll have to wait for her to be better too so that we can go home together. I'm too young to live by myself. And, Mum got hurt a lot more than I did. She told me to hide and ring for the police on my mobile. But, he got me too before you found me." Riff stood for many minutes, tapping his foot onto the speckled tiles and making a conscious effort to look at nothing. He heard each of Cain's inhales and exhales, and was relieved with every breath that this boy was alive. "Why did you leave last time?"

"Last time?" He absent-mindedly repeated.

"You were with me when I was in the ambulance and on the stretcher. You promised you wouldn't let go of my hand. But, when the doctors rushed me into another room, you broke your promise, and later, the nurse told me you went home. You left."

"I'm sorry." He thought about explaining to Cain that he had a fiancée to go home to, and that he couldn't stay at the hospital forever, but no excuse was worthy of the sadness in the boy's voice when he spoke of that night. "I shouldn't have left." His eyes finally lifted to meet Cain's for only a second before the patient looked away. But, in that moment, that glimpse of a green cat eye, Riff knew he couldn't be satisfied with just leaving. He couldn't reassure himself that the boy had lived, and that he would be okay. He needed more than that simple justification of his good deed.

"Don't worry yourself too much." His disappointment fizzled out. "You can make it up to me. Don't be a stranger, anymore, Riffael."


	3. Chapter 3

The conversation might have gone like this:

"Why didn't you tell me? The nurse said you knew?" Silence.

"Yes." Silence. "I'm so sorry, Cain. I couldn't tell you."

"Why not? Did you think I was too young, too immature, too… cushioned and deluded to know the truth?"

"I know that you're beyond angry, but I had no right to break that news to you."

"Neither did that doctor. I don't even know him. He doesn't care about me, only the money the government pays him for taking care of vermin like me. At least if you had told me, I'd know that you were doing it because you cared at least a little bit about me and wanted me to know that truth."

"Cain, acting like this... it's not good for you."

"Neither is being lied to." A sigh.

"You're right, it's not. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I'm sorry that you had to find out this way. It's a terrible thing to have to tell anyone that they've lost their family. Believe it or not, I know what it's like, on both sides." A pause. "But, I didn't tell you because—how do I say this?—because, to me, you seemed so small and hurt. I didn't want to be there to see you hurt any longer. That one night was enough. I didn't want to be the one who had to deal with your pain. It's cowardly, and I'm sorry."

"But, you're here now."

"I am. I promised that I would come back."

"Is that why?"

"No, no, of course not. The truth is, I worry about you, sometimes, when I'm not here to see if you're doing okay."

"Oh, so it's to make yourself feel better then?"

"No, it's not that!" A groan. "Let's face the facts; you're alone now, kid, and I know how terrifying that is. And for some reason I feel like this irreversible pull to be near you and to make sure that you're not alone and not terrified. It doesn't make any sense, but that's why I'm here. The completely honest reason. Does that answer satisfy you?"

"Riff, I don't need or want your pity."

"I just want you to know that there's someone here for you. You don't have to care, but I want you to know." This silence lasted several minutes. "Where will you go when you're discharged?"

"Probably shipped away to some relative. I might have to leave the city." A swallow. "Maybe I'll never see you again, if that happens."

"I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen. Unless you want it to."

But, there was no conversation, and no words of assurance or consolation. Only a pair of eyes squeezed tightly shut in sorrow and remorse, and tears leaking off the edge of clumped eyelashes. Only breaths caught on the jagged edges of asphyxiation and aching in his chest with every intake. Only a boy's hands clasping those of the man sitting next to him, the man respecting the silence, and making a promise with himself not to leave Cain alone.

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry for the name change :( I came up with the previous name "Hatching" just to have a name, but I like this one a lot more. It's from "Hallelujah." I listen to the Jeff Buckley version and it says, "Well, maybe there's a God above, but all I've ever learned from love is how to shoot somebody who outdrew you." I think that really conveys how I want Riff and Cain to interact in this story.**

**Feedback? **


	4. Chapter 4

The bed is empty. Bed? It's probably more of a cot, a temporary resting place. And Riff knew that, but the temporary part stung. Nevertheless, it was empty, and the wrinkled, white sheets, creased and folded over the grey wool blanket which served as a duvet.

He tore his eyes away from the absence of the boy to look back into the doctor's muddy brown eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the owners of the eyes spoke, but Riff could hardly hear the words.

"Can't you tell me something? All I know is his name. Do you know how many people live in this city? In this district alone? How am I to know where he has gone?" Riff could hear his voice growing more desperate with each question flying out of his mouth, propelled by some uncontrollable energy. "Look, I was on the team that saved him. I was with him in the ambulance."

"I'm sorry, but you work for the hospital, don't you? You know that I can't break doctor-patient confidentiality, no matter who you are." Riff couldn't help but clench his fists. "Now, please leave before I call security. The hospital is not allowing visitors at this time, and you're not on duty. You're simply not allowed to be up here at this time."

"God damn it!" he uttered, squishing his eyelids closed. How had he evaded Riff so easily? "I promised him…"

_"What are you reading?" Riff had asked the last time they were together. He set his coffee on the side table and walked over to get a better look at the beaten up paperback._

_ "_Hamlet._" Cain smiled. "You've read it?" Riff returned the grin before looking down into his hands._

_ "A long time ago. In college."_

_ "It couldn't have been too long ago. You don't look _that _old."_

_ "So, then, are you also reading this for college?" He backed away from the bed a few paces. "Sort of, but it's for a performance. I want to audition." He closed the book and let out a smile again. It relieved Riff greatly to see him happy, even if it was only on the outside. "I wasn't sure if I should, but my mum told me I should." His voice lightened at the end, and his eyes lost their glisten._

_ Determined to make the boy smile again, Riff asked, "Oh, so are you trying for the magnificent, brooding hero himself?" He succeeded, but only slightly._

_ "No, not Hamlet."_

_ "Good, he's far too moody and unpleasant for a great-souled actor such as yourself." Cain opened the book again._

_ "How are you so sure that I'm a great-souled actor? Shouldn't I have to prove myself first?" He handed the book to Riff. "I'm trying for Polonius, so you can be everyone else." An order again, rather than a question. "Start with Gertrude's line."_

_ Speechless at first, Riff searched the page for the line he was commanded to recite. At last, he fumbled over the first words, "'Came this from Hamlet to her?'"_

_ Cain spoke from memory with refined diction and clarity, "'Good madam, stay a while. I will be faithful. "Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love. O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have not art to reckon my groans, but that I love the best, oh, most best, believe it. Adieu. Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him, Hamlet."'"_

_ "Hold for a second. What exactly is going on?"_

_ "Well, you see, Hamlet is in love with Ophelia, and he goes to her room in the middle of the night, in a sort of fury, because he's just seen his father's ghost. And he takes her face into his hands…" The entire room was silent except for Cain's words. "And he just wants to tell her so badly everything that has happened to him, but he can't. He just can't trust her with all that pain and suffering, so he leaves without saying anything. Now, Ophelia is terrified by this, because he does all this weird stuff with no explanation, so Ophelia runs to her dad, Polonius, who tells Hamlet's mom and his uncle what happened so that they can keep an eye on Hamlet."_

_ "So, here, Polonius is reading Hamlet's love letter out loud?"_

_ "Yeah, it's sort of an awful invasion of privacy, though. To have the innermost thoughts and feelings exposed to the court. It's easy to see how their relationship is kind of poisoned by all this outside interference, where if they were just left alone, maybe things would have ended up differently. Maybe Hamlet would have had something to survive for."_

_ "I guess that's the part of tragedy people love so much. The 'what-ifs.'" They continued through the rest of the scene, giving Cain plenty of practice, and Riff the opportunity to playact roles he never dreamt of reading or performing._

_ "You're really good, Cain. You sound like an aristocrat, even when you're supposed to be a bumbling idiot." Another wider smile._

_ "Thanks, I take that as a compliment."_

_ "I think you'd make a great Polonius, though. When do you audition?"_

_ "As soon as I get out. Auditions were last week, but I know the director will let me try out before he posts the cast list."_

_ "Let me know how it turns out. Or if you need any more terrible actors to practice with."_

_ "You're not terrible, really. Just rigid and placid. You would probably make a good Horatio, but I don't know how you would deliver the final scene."_

_ "The final scene? Remind me…"_

_ "When Horatio has to choose whether to kill himself to be with Hamlet, or to trust the last wishes of his friend, and survive to tell his story."_

_ "You're probably right," Riff said, rubbing his head. "I would never want to make that decision." He picked his coat up off of the armchair at the other side of the room._

_ "Riff," Cain's voice lingered in the air. The older man halted his preparations for departure. "Promise me that if I get the part, that you'll come to see me again." He paused for a few seconds. "Or maybe even if I don't get the part. Anyway."_

_ "I promise."_

He didn't see Cain again for another four years.

**Author's Note:**

**Thanks to all readers and reviewers so far. I'm trying to clear up some of the questions people have asked about the story as they arise. In case you haven't been able to tell yet, Riff is an EMT. Also, this takes place in London, but I'm from the United States, so I apologize if I'm completely stupid and put in American colloquialisms and such instead of British ones.**

**Also, apologies to anyone who hasn't read or finished reading _Hamlet_. I know most people read it in high school, and it's a well-known story, so a lot of people already know stuff, but there are some vague spoilers, and then a pretty explicit one about Horatio. I find a lot of connections between _Hamlet_ and _Godchild_, which you can probably see that I've hinted at within the chapter. A lot of stuff is applicable.**

**The quotation comes from Act II Scene II, lines like 1210 to 1220. It's a great part. If you've never read _Hamlet_, put it on your reading list!**


	5. Chapter 5

On that day he woke up from a nightmare. He had been sitting in an old room with carved wooden furniture, when he saw in the corner of the room that the light was shining on a blackbird. A blackbird? Or was it a raven? Or a crow? He couldn't have named the bird, but it was there nonetheless. As soon as his hand reached out to touch the bird, it exploded into thick, black liquid, which popped and splattered all over him. He felt drowned in paint.

And like that, it was over. How had it happened so quickly? He hadn't even been able to wipe his eyes to see past the initial black splotches in his vision. But, now he was awake, and there was not old room, or bird, or splotches. Just himself, alone in his flat, like he had been for months.

Solitary.

The streets weren't so foggy on his way home from work as they had been in the morning. No, he could see quite clearly the people around him, scurrying in skirts and trousers and boots and pumps to wherever their lives were taking them. And his trousers and his boat shoes were leading him into the vast expanses of nothingness into which his life was taking him. But, it was apparently taking him to get tea first.

The steam rose from his cup as he sat by the window and continued to people-watch. A lonely soul, perhaps, but maybe it suited him better to be lonely. That was always the conclusion he relied on to comfort himself. To be contented to see the curling swirls of steam ascend from a teacup, well that was a supreme sort of happiness. There was nothing more he could ask from the world.

And then, down the street, walking quickly and with his head downcast, a man—well, a young man—in a black coat, a grey scarf tied at his throat, and a sour expression on his face, when he finally looked up. And somehow, Riff knew him… knew the golden eyes, and the harsh step, and the tousled black locks.

Suddenly, a supreme sort of happiness did not seem like enough to satisfy Riff, for he seized his belongings haphazardly, and fled out the door, eyes searching the streets for the boy he had lost years ago. His body moved autonomously, without any suggestion from his brain. But, no matter where he looked or went, he couldn't find himself tracing Cain's steps.

"God damn it! How could I lose him again?" he stopped, exasperatedly turning to all sides.

"Hey, are you okay? You seem confused." He heard a voice, deeper than it had been in the hospital room, steadier, but still quiet. He turned around to see a young man instead of a boy. His hair was longer, and though tangled, it was glossy. His eyes were darker, his face thinner, but his body had filled out a bit more since their last meeting.

Riff couldn't help but smile at his discovery. "God… do you even remember me?" Cain looked at him warily for only a few moments.

"You know, I got the part, but I never saw you at the play. And you promised…." But, temporarily, the broken promise didn't seem to matter as they both smiled, and grabbed for each other.

"Oh, Cain, you have no idea how sorry I am that I broke that promise." Maybe the hug lasted a split second too long before they began to let go of one another. "But, I had no way of finding you. I looked everywhere I could think to look."

"Well, I suppose it's only half broken now. You know, you saw me again. I guess it doesn't matter so much when, as long as it happened." Riff let out a slight sigh of relief. "Come on, let's go get some drinks and you can tell me how hard you looked for me…"

Riff didn't exactly remember what they said on the walk to the bar, but looking the other man's face, grown-up, and even marked with a day's stubble, he thought that there was a possibility for a greater happiness—one he had not yet known.


End file.
